Sixty is not the new 40

Sunday

Oct 21, 2012 at 3:15 AM

Youíve got to help me out. Iím turning 60 next week and just canít get my head around it.Turning 40 was nothing. I still looked OK ó even wore a bikini back then. Heck, I was able to wear a bikini until about 5 years ago, but those days are gone.And even better than looking good, when I was in my 40s and 50s, I could run fast, ski hard and play a reasonably competitive game of tennis.There is a funny story about me that our kids bring up from time to time. It has become part family lore. We were at Moody Beach in Wells six years ago. Our youngest son, Jarid, was just 6 years old. He would not let me put sunscreen on him so I chased him all over the beach until he finally gave in. It was a ridiculous scene ó a 54-year-old woman sprinting after a very speedy little boy. But I caught him!Could I do that today? Highly unlikely.So 60 is definitely not the new 40. Since when has my body become an instrument of meteorology? My aches and pains can predict damp weather with nearly 100 percent accuracy ó better than Doppler radar. Here are a few more details on those nagging symptoms that tell me Iím entering a new phase in life:

¶ I no longer look that great. Instead of bikinis, Iím hoping burkas come into style in the West real soon. The crazy thing is I know what I look like and dress appropriately. I am not one of those old women in denial trying to wear a low-cut sequined blouse and a mini-skirt. Still, I canít get my mind to accept that the woman in the mirror is actually me. For most of my life I had an internal picture of myself as fit, reasonably attractive and youthful. Now I need to consciously remind myself that picture needs an update.

¶ Iím not running anymore. These days Iím walking. I suppose I could still turn on the jets if I was being chased by a mugger, but my everyday exercise is gentler. I like to empty my mind by taking a brisk walk. I just want to put one foot in front of the other.

¶ I rarely play sports. Though skiing was my passion and I enjoyed tennis, it is unclear whether my 60-year-old knees could withstand either activity. But, thereís always an upside. The recession has been so long and deep, I havenít been able to afford skiing or tennis anyway. If I did either activity, I would likely be seeing an orthopedic specialist for one or two total knee replacements and maybe even a new hip.

¶ Since when do I need a chain saw to cut my toenails? I still paint my toenails with bright red or deep pink polish, but my feet donít look the same. Arthritis has thickened and contorted the bones. And, perhaps in anticipation of my 60th birthday, my toenails have become as hard as rhinoceros horns. Somebody could get badly hurt if I donít keep cutting back these suckers. They are lethal weapons.

¶ Lipstick melts into the crevices and ends up on my teeth. As soon as I was old enough, I started wearing lipstick. My mother always wore not-so-subtle shades of reds and so do I. But lately, the lipstick has been ending up everywhere, but on my lips. It bleeds into the tiny lines around my mouth and also somehow migrates to my teeth when I smile. My two youngest boys, Jeff, 13, and Jarid, 11, do a daily lipstick check to see if there is red smeared all over my teeth. When I was a child, I remember my Nana, Hattie Rowland, telling me that she could only wear a certain brand of lipstick ó Coty 24 ó that she claimed stayed put and did not bleed into her wrinkles. At the time, I had no idea what she was talking about. Now I understand.

¶ And speaking of teeth ... I have tried every product on the planet. I even splurged on some special goop from the dentist, but my teeth wonít turn that dazzling white I once flashed every time I smiled. It is because my teeth are 60 and 60-year-old bone is a bit more yellow in color. Thatís just the way it is. TV personality Regis Philbin, who is really old, has dazzling white teeth, but that is probably because he has had cosmetic dentistry to grind down his real teeth and replace the yellowed enamel with dazzling white, but fake, porcelain veneers. Iíll keep my not-so-white teeth, thank you very much.

¶ Out damned spot! My husband and I took the kids to the beach for some day trips this summer. We wore sunscreen, but after a few hours of sunlight, we looked like a couple of saggy dalmations. Our bodies were covered in age spots, which Dan jokingly dubbed ďrot dots.Ē

¶ Iím finding my roots and Iím not talking about ancestors. By luck of the genetic draw, I have had gray hair since I was 30. I use hair coloring, but itís not lasting very long these days. And, thereís a new symptom. Even my eyebrows are gray. I dye them, too. Thereís a lot of dying and grooming, which is tiresome, but I am drawing a line and refusing to give in. I have no intention of sporting blue hair ever!

Itís probably a good thing that I am drawing lines and refusing to give in, but eventually it happens to us all. We age, gracefully or not. Just give me a few years to get used to the idea, and Iíll keep having my boys check my lipstick.

Mary Pat Rowland is the managing editor of Fosterís and can be reached at mprowland@fosters.com.